Bannon & Zevran Bk I: Origins Ch4: Friends and Lovers
by Bloodsong 13T
Summary: Bannon & Zevran: one of the quickest, slickest, smartest, conniving, lying, thieving, assassining, & insanely annoying rogue duos ever. The nature of their relationship changes... for better or for worse. Oh, and they still have to save the world, too.
1. (The Story so Far)

**Bannon & Zevran: Book I: Origins: Recap **

_Author's Note:_

If you just happened by, this is not the start of the story (okay, saga :X). Look for the previous parts, if you want to start at the beginning. (Yes, it is LONG!) (Or, you know, just read the recap, here.)

* * *

><p><em>The story so far...<em>

**Origins: Part 1: Prelude -**

Bannon, a plucky street rat from the elven Alienage in Denerim, braved the wrath of the local human noblemen to rescue his cousin Shianni and other women from Vaughn Kendells' grasp. With help from Shianni's brother, Soris, he killed Vaughn and four other noblemen, but not before Shianni is raped. Soris was taken prisoner for the murders, but a man named Duncan recruited Bannon into the Grey Wardens, to combat the coming Blight.

===#===

**Origins: Part 2: The Grey Wardens -**

The Grey Wardens and King Cailan went into battle against the Tainted darkspawn horde, but General Loghain Mac Tir, the Hero of River Dane, retreated from the battle and left them to die. Alistair and Bannon, now initiated as a Grey Warden, were rescued from the Tower of Ishal by Flemeth, a self-proclaimed witch of the Wilds. She sent her daughter, Morrigan, to aid the last two surviving Grey Wardens in bringing their treaties and promises of aid to their allies.

Joining this trio are Leliana, a former bard of Orlais and Sister of the Chantry, who was sent a vision from the Maker, and Sten, a qunari from far-off Par Vallon, who was sentenced to die at the claws of the darkspawn after he murdered a family of farmers.

===#===

**Origins: Part 3: A Wolf in the Fold -**

The Wardens and their companions travel to Redcliffe to secure the aid of Arl Eamon against Loghain, who has set himself up as regent to rule Ferelden while blaming the Wardens for the king's death. However, Redcliffe is held in the grip of a nightmare, spawned by a demon possessing the arl's son, Connor. The companions fight a ghostly undead army, then rescue Connor at the price of his mother Isolde's life. Arl Eamon remains in a coma, and the Wardens begin the search for the legendary Sacred Ashes to cure him.

Zevran, a saucy assassin in the Antivan Crows, was hired to kill the Grey Wardens, but failed. He pled for his life, intending to escape from his bonds of slavery by joining the only people in the world who are tougher and more dangerous than the Crows - the Wardens.

The group made their way to the Circle Tower of mages, where a Blood Mage was staging a coup. With some help from Niall, a mage trapped in the Fade in the form of a mouse, the companions defeated both the Sloth demon and Uldred, the Blood Mage, to secure the help of the mages in the upcoming battle.

===#===

**Origins: Part 4: Partners in Crime -**

The companions follow the trail of Brother Genitivi, a scholar searching for the Sacred Ashes, back to Denerim, where Bannon discovers the Alienage is sealed off because of plague, after being harrowed by a Purge. Helpless to do anything to aid his family or people, he returns to the Wardens' mission.

Along the way, they aid Levi Dryden in reclaiming Soldier's Peak, an ancient Grey Warden outpost, inhabited by Avernus, a mage doing hideous experiments with the Taint to prolong the Wardens' shortened lifespan. They also discover a former royal guard being held and interrogated in the Bannorn by Loghain's allies, who imparts information to them about incriminating evidence against Loghain still left in Ostagar.

Finally, they discover Haven, an isolated and sealed-off town where the inhabitants have been guarding the Sacred Ashes since they were brought out of Tevinter, ages ago. The companions rescued Genitivi from a dragon-worshipping cult, made a deal with the cult leader, Kolgrim, to mingle dragon blood with the Sacred Ashes, entered the holy sacristy and passed the tests of the Guardian and the Gauntlet to earn the right to depart with a pinch of Ash.

Leliana persuades Father Eirik, a rival of Kolgrim's, to reconsider the sacred duty of the townspeople. Meanwhile, Bannon betrays Kolgrim and gets the dragon (who is a little peeved to find her babies killed and an egg stolen) to kill the cult leader and attack the cultists. The companions escape out of town with help from Eirik and return to Redcliffe, where the Ashes bring Arl Eamon out of his coma.

===#===

**The Relationship:**

Bannon took pity on Zevran, who was only a slave to the Crow Masters and wanted to be free. Plus, the thief was tired of being the only elf in the group. Zevran, being born in a whorehouse and trained by the Crows to seduce his targets, tried to use his charms on... well, everyone. He found the women unswayed, the qunari just impossible, and Fereldan men rather dense. But where Alistair would would go into chaste Chantry-boy conniptions whenever Zevran began coming on to him, Bannon would remain cool and calm.

As they traveled with their would-be assassin, Bannon came to know him better, the damaged and vulnerable person behind Zevran's suavity and braggadocio. He saw Zevran tortured by Crow trainers in the Fade, and got glimpses of the story of his mother selling him into slavery. Zevran truly wanted to be free, and Bannon was determined to help this elf who had become his close friend, and 'partner in crime.'

The two elves were closely matched, in physical prowess, in fighting skills, in quick thinking, in thought and opinion. Bannon mused it would be fun to travel the world with the assassin, living by their wits and their blades. Then he stole a pair of Antivan leather boots as a gift, and Zevran showed his appreciation with an unexpected kiss.

Bannon had to confront the possibility of a relationship with Zevran beyond friendship. It wasn't something he'd even contemplated (Bannon had plenty of women and liked them very much, thank you!). But... what if it could work?

He decided to try it. But only if the Antivan wasn't joking, and actually asked him.

===#===

**Now...**

The group is heading south and east out of Redcliffe, with the goal of reaching the Dalish elves in the Brecilian Forest.

===_X_===


	2. Bannon & Zevran

**Bannon & Zevran (censored version)**

_CONTENT:_

Rating: Mature

Flavor: Sex Scene

Language: no

Violence: no

Nudity: yes (m)

Sex: yes (m/m)

Other: none

Author's Notes:

Yes, at long last, the OTHER Bannon & Zevran scene you have been waiting for! Besides the big fight.

This is the censored version of this scene. The full version is slightly more detailed and will not be posted on FanFiction net. If you prefer the complete scene, please see the Bannon & Zevran forum.

Notice: If you couldn't guess, this is going to be a sexual relationship. If you want to skip those parts, be sure to read the Content Labels for each chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Bannon &amp; Zevran<strong>

===#===

Zevran intercepted Bannon on the way to his tent. "Tsk, tsk, tsk! Look at you, you poor man; your weary stance, those dark circles under your eyes... Walking everywhere, to and fro all over this country, is taking its toll on you. You know what you need?"

Bannon cocked his head, quirked one brow, then rolled his eyes from one side to the other, thinking a long moment. "Um... a horse?"

Zevran chuckled. "No no, it is much to late for that. Here is my proposal: We retire to your tent, and I show you some of those elite massage techniques one can only learn growing up in an Antivan whorehouse. How does that sound to you, hm?"

"Hmmm..." The Denerim elf thoughtfully stroked his chin. "You know, you sold me on these 'various massage techniques' when you pledged me your service, but I have yet to see proof that you actually know any."

"I assure you!" Zevran placed his hand over his heart. "I give you my solemn word. Of course, there is only _one_ sure way to find out." He grinned evilly.

"Yes, I should really see for myself."

"Ah good, a willing victim!" The Antivan rubbed his hands together. He couldn't believe it was this easy. Was he dreaming? Was the Ferledan being dense again? "Now just to avoid any unfortunate misunderstandings that might arise: if things should start to go beyond a mere massage...?" He tilted his head, raising a brow suggestively.

Bannon hooded his eyes. "Well, we'll have to see how good this massage is, first." With a faint smile, he touched the other elf on the arm and beckoned him towards his tent.

===#===

They took off their armor and boots. Zevran was glad to see that Bannon was not particularly shy about his own body, nor another man's. Then again, they had already passed naked together through Andraste's fire. The Alienages in the various cities were crowded as well, with little room for the luxury of much privacy.

"Sit here," said Zevran, lowering himself onto the bedroll and rubbing oil onto his hands. Bannon sat in front of him, and Zevran spread his hands across his back. First, he only ran his palms over the smooth skin. Slowly, he increased the pressure, then gripped Bannon's shoulders with his fingertips. He kneaded the tight muscles. "You really are tense," he said quietly.

Using strong circular motions of his thumbs, he worked the muscles down Bannon's neck and spine. The elf leaned slightly against his hands, exhaling slowly. Zevran rubbed his back, bringing the strokes upward little by little, until he cupped the deltoids in the hollow of his hands.

He leaned forward, stretched to reach past the other elf, and snagged the brandy flask on his belt. "You have been working way too hard, my friend. I think you need even more help to relax."

Bannon raised his brows and half turned to watch as Zevran poured a shot of the liquor into the top of the container. "Antivan brandy: very fine, very smooth." He tossed it back, then licked his lips. He poured out a bit more, and handed it to Bannon.

He eyed the portion of amber liquor a moment. "Why is mine smaller than yours?"

"Genetics," Zevran quipped with a chuckle.

Bannon coughed in dry humor and shook his head.

"I want you to relax, not become so inebriated that you cannot perform." He winked. "It is quite strong for one not used to it."

Bannon drank it down and handed the top back for Zevran to secure the flask. Reflexively, he licked his lips.

"Sweet, is it not?" the assassin asked, rubbing Bannon's neck again. "Yet deadly in its potency. Somewhat like myself, actually." He chuckled again, softly in his throat.

Bannon closed his eyes and let the heat of the liquor infuse him. He melted under the strong ministrations of Zevran's hands. The Antivan pressed his thumbs alongside the bones of Bannon's neck, then stroked upward. He then did it again, but this time he ran the balls of his thumbs lightly up the back of the elf's ears. Bannon gasped, and a tremor shot through his body.

Zevran smiled at his reaction. He leaned close and pressed his lips against the side of Bannon's neck while he rubbed his shoulders. He traced a line of little kisses upward. Bannon tipped his head obligingly aside, and Zevran buried his fingers in Bannon's soft hair, rubbing his thumb gently at the base of the skull. Then he touched the tip of his tongue to Bannon's neck and retraced the line of kisses back down to his shoulder. Bannon exhaled in a nearly silent sigh. He turned his head, still cradled in Zevran's palm, and raised his hand towards the Antivan.

Zevran shifted obligingly to the side. Bannon half opened his eyes and turned towards him. His fingers touched the other elf's hair and stroked it lightly, then dug in deeper to grip him at the base of the skull. Bannon opened his mouth to receive Zevran's kiss. Their lips touched and parted, then touched again, gently exploring.

Bannon released Zevran's hair and shifted his hand down and around, touching Zevran's ribs and sliding his hand around to his back. With the other hand, he rubbed Zevran's shoulder. Zevran cupped both his hands around Bannon's head as their kissing grew more passionate. He let his hands glide down Bannon's neck and fan over his shoulders. He paused for both of them to catch their breath. Lips slightly parted, their breath mingled, heavy with the taste of the Antivan brandy.

Zevran watched Bannon's eyes. Shyly, the other elf kept his downcast. Bannon touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip, then leaned forward to kiss Zevran once more. The Antivan pulled away slightly. This made Bannon look up into his eyes. Zevran could see his pupils were dilated. Such dark, deep eyes one could fall into...

Gently, but firmly, he laid Bannon down. He bent and kissed the other elf deeply. Bannon embraced him, kissing him back. The Antivan ran a hand over his chest, down the lean musculature of his flank, to the crest of his hip. Slowly, he drew his hand up over the broad plain of the belly. He could feel a deep frisson within the city elf, almost as if an electrical charge were running through him.

Zevran pulled back, releasing the kiss. He looked down into Bannon's deep brown eyes. "You're trembling," he said softly.

"It's... I've never- I mean..." Dark lashes brushed his cheek as he lowered them. "I've had plenty of women in the Alienage, but..."

"Never another man?" The Antivan's smile widened slightly. "Then it is my great honor and privilege to be your first." He touched his lips to Bannon's, briefly; then the tip of his tongue. He bent to whisper in his ear, "Just relax. I will be gentle."

Bannon felt the tension drain out of him at the assassin's promise. It was a strange twist of fate that this man who had been paid to kill him was the one person in the world he trusted implicitly. The bond they shared went deeper than mere money or politics - or even gender.

He embraced Zevran, trailing his fingertips down the valley of the assassin's spine, drawing his hands over the broad planes of the Antivan's shoulders. It was different than touching a woman, strong and angular, not soft and rounded, but not unpleasant either.

Zevran kissed his neck and throat while Bannon tilted his head back and half-closed his eyes. The assassin continued down his body, kissing and licking. Bannon cupped Zevran's shoulders under his palms, feeling the play and shift of muscles under his hands.

A sudden pang of doubt shot through Bannon. He didn't think this was going to work.

Then the Antivan bent over him, and that thought - along with everything else - flew right out of Bannon's head. Using his hands and eminently talented mouth, Zevran worked his magic. Each touch of his tonguetip so precise, the pressure of his fingers so exact in application, like a master artist at his work. Bannon responded readily. His eyes drifted closed as he let wave after wave of pleasure wash over him. Zevran drew him taut, like a bowstring, then released him.

Tension flowed out of Bannon like water. Zevran pushed the unresisting elf onto his side and slotted up against him. Zevran levered up on his elbow and reached around for the massage oil. Bannon let him push his knee between the Denerim elf's legs and prepare him for coupling with the oil. He was really going to go through with this. The Antivan reined in his own excitement. _Take it slowly... Savor it._

"Good," he murmured in Bannon's ear as he embraced him. "Just relax. If it hurts for a second, do not worry; I promise I will make it feel very, _very_ good." He didn't wait for any acknowledgement, but pressed forward with the last drawn out word.

Bannon gasped as their bodies joined. Zevran nuzzled against his neck. The two elves were so similar in stature and physique, it was deliciously narcissistic making love together. Zevran embraced Bannon more tightly, melting into him, stroking the length of his body to feel the muscles sliding beneath the skin.

Zevran was careful not to bring his full weight to bear. This was a tender young virgin, and if he wanted to cultivate him as a long-term lover, it would take some care. Zevran shivered in anticipation and kept a tight leash on his passion. Which only stoked it higher. He reveled in the sheathing of his flesh within another. This was the closest bond he could achieve with another person. There was, of course, the sheathing of one's steel blade in another's body, but that tended to be over much more quickly.

Zevran drew his tongue up the back of Bannon's sensitive ear tip. The thief cried out and came quickly to climax. Zevran growled in pleasure and unleashed the culmination of his pursuit and conquest of this most elusive target.

Both elves lay panting a few moments before Zevran carefully withdrew. Bannon shivered again, and the assassin groped for a nearby towel to clean up with.

Bannon lay still a few more moments, recovering, his ears ringing. He'd never imagined it would be anything like this. Zevran hadn't been exaggerating his talents. A spark grew within his belly.

He rolled to encircle Zevran in his arms. The Antivan elf leaned against his side and bent to give him a soft, lingering kiss. The Denerim elf stroked his hair. "That was incredible," Bannon said, brushing his knuckles down Zevran's tattooed cheek.

The Antivan smiled. "I am glad it meets your approval."

Nothing more would stand in their way. Friends had become lovers, sharing trust and intimacy. No more barriers. The spark traveled up into his chest. "Will you talk to me now?"

Zevran shook his head. "No no, shhh." He kissed Bannon's eyelids. "There will be time for talk in the morning. Sleep now."

Bannon started to murmur a protest, but his body was exhausted, and his mind drifted easily into slumber.

Zevran sighed and pillowed his head on the Denerim elf's shoulder. He stroked Bannon's chest, idly admiring his newly-conquered territory before pulling the blankets up around them and succumbing to sleep.

===_X_===


	3. The Morning After

**The Morning After**

_CONTENT:_

Rating: Mature

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: yes

Violence: no

Nudity: partial (m)

Sex: mentioned

Other: none

Author's Notes:

And then this happens.

* * *

><p><strong>The Morning After<strong>

===#===

"Wake up! Are you going to lie abed all day?"

Bannon groaned and rolled over, pushed himself to sit up. "Is it morning already?" He scratched his head and looked over at Zevran.

The assassin was already half dressed. "Yes, it is getting quite late. I did not know you were such a sound sleeper."

"I'm not. Not since..." Bannon frowned and shook his head. Since he drank darkspawn blood and had the Archdemon invade his head.

"Aha, you see!" Zevran grinned. "I told you I would help you relax. Zevran is as good as his word!"

Bannon groggily rubbed his face. "Yeah, toss me my pants, would you?"

The assassin obliged, then paused to savor the act of sliding his beloved Antivan leather boots onto his feet. "I knew this would happen. As soon as you failed to kill me, it was inevitable."

"What?" The bottom dropped out of Bannon's stomach. Had he planned this all along? Just picked Bannon out as his mark and set about seducing him? He focused on pulling on his pants while he collected himself.

Zevran pulled out a dagger and inspected the edge. "What can I say? My charms are irresistible."

"And that's it? You got what you wanted, now you're happy?" Bannon tugged at the laces of his fly.

"Mm, that pretty much sums it up," the assassin said with a careless air. "After all, my mother always said one must take pleasure whenever one can - you never know when it might be your last." He flipped the dagger and caught it with a jaunty smile, then ducked out of the tent.

Bannon stared a minute. What the hell was that? He threw on the rest of his clothes and went outside. The others were just rising, moving about in preparation for the day. The assassin had disappeared, probably gone to the latrine. Bannon turned to follow.

===#===

Alistair bent to roll up his bedroll and blankets. With a light ringing sound, ten silver coins bounced onto the maroon cloth. He looked up, only to see Morrigan walking away. He called after her, but she did not stop or look around. He scooped up the coins and went after her.

"Morrigan, wait."

"I have a lot to do, Alistair." She began directing Sandahl to which of her chests were packed for loading on the merchants' cart.

"You don't have to give me the money."

"Of course I do. I saw Zevran coming out of Bannon's tent this morning." She sniffed haughtily. "You win, fair and square, as they say."

Awkwardly, Alistair shrugged, and pocketed the coins. "Well... I'm sorry."

"There's no need for that. He's a grown man, he can make his own decisions." She turned and started repacking a box of potions for transport. "He can live with those decisions," she added darkly.

Alistair bit his lip. "Well. On the brighter side, maybe Zevran will stop flirting with the rest of us, finally."

Morrigan made an unladylike snort. "You can keep hoping."

===#===

Bannon caught up to the other elf at the edge of camp. "Zevran, wait. I want to talk to you."

"Oh, this already," the Antivan complained. He turned around, a sour look on his face.

"_What_ already?" Bannon demanded.

"The reason I usually keep this sort of thing on a strictly professional level... No attachments."

Bannon seethed. Professional sex, just like a whore - or an assassin seducing his targets. Was that it? "I just want to know what this means between us."

"Why should it mean anything? You are a handsome young man, and I took advantage of you. We both enjoyed it, so I really don't see what the problem is."

"You've never had sex with someone you were in love with?"

"No!" Zevran snapped. He paced in agitation. "I was born and raised in a whorehouse. What use have I for love?" He stopped suddenly and turned to Bannon. "Why, have you?"

Was that a note of accusation? Dammit, how could he have been so stupid? He knew what Zevran was like. Crows didn't have friends, let alone fall in- never mind. "Hell, no," he replied. And, thinking about all the women he'd been with, it was true enough. Zevran clearly didn't care about him, and Bannon couldn't admit what he'd been thinking. He felt humiliated enough as it was. "It doesn't mean anything to me either," he insisted, forcing a careless smile. "But the way you're acting... Look, I know I'm not as experienced as you are, but you sound like you regret it."

Zevran's demeanor changed instantly. The almost hostile tension left his shoulders and his voice unwound a few notches. "Oh, no; is not that. I have wanted a liaison with you for quite some time now. And I enjoyed it very much." He smiled lingeringly. "I would enjoy it again - if that is your wish. If not, well, on to other conquests, no?" He cocked his head a moment. Bannon's hesitation must have been clear on his face. Zevran shrugged. "I will leave it entirely up to you, _mi patrone_."

===#===

After washing up, Bannon joined the company at the fire and gratefully accepted a mug of hot tea from Leliana. She smiled impishly at him, and his stomach knotted. Did she know what he'd been doing last night? Maker, did they all know? He glanced around furtively, then ducked his head and sipped his tea too quickly, burning his tongue. He hissed a curse.

Alistair glared at the assassin, then looked at Bannon with concern. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," the elf insisted, perhaps a bit too firmly.

"Well, good. Good good good. I was worried."

Bannon frowned. "About what? Some lurid assassination plot?"

"Well, that's entirely possible," Zevran interjected. "Do you know, there are certain substances I can ingest that would do me no harm, but which could be killing you right now?"

Bannon felt his stomach turn. Suddenly, it hit him, the gross physicality of what the assassin had been doing with him last night. He set his mug down carefully, then fled the campfire in haste.

Zevran's laughter followed him. "I was joking! There is no such thing."

Alistair, Leliana, and Wynne stared at him. Zevran shook his head. "Did you see the look on his face?" He laughed again.

"Zevran, you're horrid," Leliana scolded him.

He just chuckled unrepentantly. "So I have been told, my dear."

===#===

Zevran came to find Bannon. "Now what?" Bannon griped. "Didn't we talk already?"

"_Si_, we did. I just came by to say I will stop teasing you now." The Antivan grinned insincerely.

"Great, thanks," Bannon said, sounding anything but grateful. "Did you have to tell everyone our business?"

"You think they didn't know?" Zevran cocked his head. "You have no idea how loud you were last night, do you?"

"Oh -!" Bannon turned red and hissed a curse. He put a hand over his face as the Antivan started laughing. "Andraste's Tits!"

With a struggle, Zevran restrained his mirth. "I'm sorry, I did say I would stop teasing you. But you Fereldan boys blush so easily!" He patted his friend's slumped shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure they are all quite jealous. Why, I consider it good advertisement!" Still laughing, he went off before Bannon could punch his face in.

Alistair came over. "Hey, Bannon."

"I am fine!" the elf snapped.

"Well, good," Alistair said, his own affability hardly punctured. "We're about ready to break camp. We should probably check over our supplies. The weather is getting a lot warmer."

Bannon looked up. "You didn't come over here to talk about..." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, towards his tent. Andraste's Tits, he felt like an idiot! Everyone else could see through Zevran's sleazy attitude and lascivious remarks. He was nothing but a cheap, shallow, self-centered, egotistical, immoral, dirty-minded, callous, irreverent son of a whore.

And... he was really, _really_ good at his job. Bannon shook himself.

Alistair looked pained a moment. "Uh," he said finally. "No."

===#===

The two headed back into camp. Bannon took a tally of the group's money, and inspected Bodahn's supplies. He and the dwarf chatted about what the group might need over the summer months.

"We're really heading to Lothering, then?" Bodahn asked.

"The rumors say it's clear."

"Yes, the rumors say."

Bannon shook his head. "Don't worry, if anything is amiss, we will not leave you behind."

The dwarf blinked a moment. He seemed at a loss for words. "Well. We can't be in better hands than the Grey Wardens'."

Bannon scrambled to pack up his own gear; he was the last one. Zevran managed to get his own tent struck and packed up while making Bannon late with fretting over the horrid jokes. Maker, that thing about the poison had better not be true. His stomach roiled again, and he decided forgoing breakfast would be best.

"We'll likely hit Lothering late this afternoon," Alistair pointed out.

"I don't want any of us going in there without scouting it, first."

"That's a good idea."

"And I want to check out this story about a golem in a nearby town," Bannon told him.

"Not that again. You know it's probably nothing."

"Yes, but it won't take long to just go look."

"Unless darkspawn have overrun the place."

"The trader didn't think so. Besides, if I sense any darkspawn, I'll turn around and head back."

"What, you're going by yourself?" asked Alistair.

"You think it's a waste of time, don't you?"

"Uh..."

"It'll waste more time if we all troop out there, with the donkey cart, and back. By myself, I'll move faster." He scooped up his pack and settled it on his shoulders, over his weapon harness.

Alistair chewed his lip. "You shouldn't go alone."

Zevran came up behind them. "I wouldn't mind going to see, myself."

Alistair jumped. "Are you sneaking up on people again?"

"What 'again'?" Zevran folded his arms and looked haughtily up at the Templar. "If I were ever sneaking up on you, you would never know it."

"Zev can come," Bannon said, interrupting another sniping match. "Sten, you want to go?" They could use the muscle if they did encounter any trouble, with the added bonus that Sten wouldn't want to talk about... what had happened last night.

Sten asked, "Will we encounter darkspawn?"

"Hopefully not."

"Then it is a foolish waste of time."

"Great. Morrigan? How about you?" Someone to blow up things would also come in handy.

"A foolish endeavor, and you think of me?" Morrigan arched one brow. "I'm touched."

"Imagine how much fun you can have saying 'I told you so' and laughing," he cajoled.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, then, how can I resist?"

Then Leliana said, "I would like to go as well."

Bannon chewed his lip. Crap, he'd wanted Morrigan and Zevran to talk about assassinating Flemeth. He knew the bard had been a one time spy, perhaps an assassin herself, but she seemed the pious Chantry Sister these days. He didn't think matricide would go over well with her.

Wynne said, "It isn't wise for anyone to go."

"Maybe I should go," Alistair said. "I don't want you running off and getting killed, and leaving me the only Grey Warden left."

"No, Alistair. You're in charge of this half of the expedition."

"Me?"

"You'll have to practice being in charge sometime." The elf patted him on the shoulder. "Start small."

"Shouldn't I go with you?" Wynne asked.

"What if you need a healer?" Alistair added.

Bannon huffed a breath. "Look. Not everybody is going! Me, Zevran, Leliana, and Morrigan. That's it. We have healing potions and a witch. The rest of you finish packing up and then head out along the highway. If we don't catch up before you get to Lothering, wait for us."

Looking like a sad puppy, Alistair said, "What if you never come back?"

"Stop thinking doom and gloom," Bannon complained.

"What? After what happened in the last mountain town we visited?"

The elf palmed his face. "We're going. You're going. It'll be fine!" He turned and headed out with a rapid stride before anyone else could argue. Zevran trotted at his heels; the ladies followed at their own brisk pace.

===#===

Alistair frowned as Bannon set off with his small group. He shook his head and wondered maybe, just maybe it would have been better for Morrigan to have won that bet...

"Well," he said, trying not to let the 'being in charge' thing get to him. "We don't have to rush or anything, but what's left to get done?"

Wynne set about to clean the pots while Sten doused the fire and buried the ashes.

Alistair puttered around with his pack and bedroll. Thank the Maker Bannon had struck his own tent and stuff, so the dwarves could load it onto the cart. He'd been trying not to think about it all morning, despite Zevran's lewdness, Leliana's sly looks, Morrigan's payment, and everything else; but it was like an insistent dog wanting treats. Bannon... and Zevran. Seriously?

He hadn't even known the elf was, well, like that. He'd never said anything to Alistair. Had he? Well, no. Zevran was pretty obvious, but Bannon? Noooo. He shook his head as he shouldered his pack. It must be an elf thing, he mused.

Then he started thinking about what Zevran had once asked - what about those two guys in the Templars? Well, _no_. Templars were chaste. And besides, they hadn't acted like... well... like a boyfriend and girlfriend! Just friends! Hanging out, laughing together, sparring, boasting, annoying each other... being friendly. _Just_ friendly!

Sten came up and towered in front of him, interrupting his wildly meandering thoughts. "Are we going to encounter darkspawn?"

"If I told you 'yes,' would that put a big smile on your face?" he asked the qunari hopefully.

"No."

The Templar shrugged. "Then probably not. But you never know."

===_X_===


	4. To Honnleath

**To Honnleath**

_CONTENT:_  
>Rating: Teen<br>Flavor: Drama/Humor  
>Language: some<br>Violence: yes  
>Nudity: none<br>Sex: discussed  
>Other: none<p>

_Author's Notes:_

See the amazing Grey Wardens, who can walk and talk at the same time! Oh, I put some fighting in here, too.

_Recap:_

The Wardens retrieved the Sacred Ashes from Haven, letting the local dragon take care of the local crazy cultists. Eamon was cured by the holy substance and wasted no time in drawing up a plan of action against Loghain. He tried to insist that Alistair remain safe at Redcliffe, but neither Bannon nor Alistair wanted that to happen. Now the group is on their way along the southern Imperial Highway to head into the Brecilian forest, and if Lothering is clear, they may take a detour to Ostagar to find evidence of Loghain's sedition.

Meanwhile, Bannon ended up with a magical control rod for a golem that is supposedly located in a town to the south called Honnleath. He took Zevran, Leliana, and Morrigan with him on a little side trip to check it out. Later, they'll meet back up with Alistair and the others before Lothering.

* * *

><p><strong>To Honnleath<strong>

===#===

Morrigan walked ahead with Bannon, her long strides purposeful, while Zevran and Leliana lagged behind. Bannon was engrossed in his own thoughts, until the witch spoke to him. "Do you still fear me?"

"Uh... should I?"

"No games, Bannon. Just give me a straight answer."

He glanced at her haughty profile. "You say 'no games,' but that's the question you lead with?"

"From your reluctance to give an answer, I surmise it is indeed 'yes.'"

"Look, my answer is the same as before. I have a healthy respect for you and your power."

"And if I had no power? What then?"

He frowned to himself, wondering what kind of question that was. "Well... you'd still be a formidable woman." Usually flattery and fear placated the witch. Somehow, he sensed she wasn't satisfied with these answers. "Look, Morrigan, what do you want?"

"I'm simply curious as to the current status of our relationship."

"I don't think anything has changed," he said cautiously.

"And my plans..." She glanced about for prying ears. "Concerning my mother?"

Bannon glanced over his shoulder, to where Leliana and Zevran were leaning close and giggling. He frowned, but put it out of his mind. "Those plans are progressing, don't worry."

With a quirked brow, she followed his momentary look at the assassin. "I see." She cast her eyes forward again. "Do you find them appalling?"

"Appalling?" He shook his head, bringing his thoughts into focus. "What I find appalling is her plans towards you. You don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Oh?" A flash of surprise cleared the harshness from her face. "Is that why...?"

"Why what?"

"Why your price for this venture was so low?"

He could have gotten more? Damn. "I... didn't want to insult you. I mean..."

"You find me too proud to accept charity."

He shrugged, relieved she'd untangled that for herself.

"I like you, Bannon. I hope you realize that." She looked at him, her golden gaze open and direct.

"Oh, of course." He swallowed. "That means a great deal to me, Morrigan." His eyes tried to escape her intent scrutiny, and noticed a carved figure hanging from a leather thong on her staff. "Is that...?"

She smiled. "A very small start to my future demon army."

"I thought you didn't like it."

"I admit to being startled to receive such a gift. Made by your own hand."

"Um, you can't use it to do any strange witch magic to me, can you?"

She frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

"Hey, I'm just joking!"

"Mmm. Like that crack about me laughing at this fool mission."

"You have to admit, that was funny."

"Actually, I don't." Her straight face was impeccable.

"Well... You're here."

At that, she loosened up and actually chuckled. "So I am." She cocked her head. "You don't come to my fire any more. I rather miss our little chats."

"I do too," he agreed. "Things have been a little crazy. And... well, I know you like to keep your distance. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You may consider yourself as having an open invitation to my fireside any time you desire."

"I'm honored, Morrigan." Bannon looked off past the side of the road, feeling a bit awkward. Then he said, "You know, speaking of doomed fools' missions, I have a favor to ask. In the interest of not wasting our time."

"Hmm?

"I was thinking you could fly ahead, scout around?" He gave her a beseeching look. "See if there even is a golem? See if the place isn't overrun by darkspawn?"

She stopped and pondered this a moment. "Yes, a wise idea."

Bannon stepped back to give her room to complete the transformation. In moments, her raven form took off over the trees. Now for the part Bannon had been dreading - having to talk to the assassin. Maker only knew what he'd been telling Leliana. _Innocent Chantry nun, my ass._

"Morrigan's gone to scout ahead," he called to them. He spied a wooden fence bordering part of the road and went to sit on it. The other two ambled over to join him.

"The Summer Solstice is coming up," Leliana said. "We should do something to celebrate."

Bannon rubbed his head behind his ear, then combed his hair back into place. "I'll have to see what our budget is."

"It need not be anything fancy. Perhaps a prayer and a hymn."

"Oh, that sounds exciting," Zevran said, not making the slightest effort to sound at all interested. "Do you not have a grand Summer Festival here?"

"Yes, we do," Bannon told him. "In the alienage, we have a big celebration. Mmm, and sugar candy." He smiled fondly, but Leliana, for some reason, looked alarmed. Then again, the last time he had candy, that insufferable assassin had stolen it. "What kind of festival do they have in Orlais?" he asked, before said insufferable assassin could start blabbering about the Antivan celebrations.

"In Orlais, we decorate the streets with flowers in preparation for the Solstice. By day, we have a flower parade, and then at night there is a great candlelight procession. We go to the Chantry to sing hymns of praise to the Maker." She smiled wistfully. "It is truly beautiful. I was once able to participate in the procession at the Val Royeaux cathedral. There were so many people, we did not get to go in, but circled the outside in rows nine deep. The stained glass glowed like magical jewels. And the pipe organ they have there! I thought it would shake the very stones to the foundation." She bowed her head. "Truly, it seemed our voices raised in harmony could rouse the Maker. If only people were able to muster that sort of unity all the time."

Bannon thought about the strife in Ferelden, the civil war in the face of the Blight. He shook his head. Would the elves of Denerim even be able to celebrate this year? They seemed to have precious little to be happy about. Yet that was life in the alienage. You celebrated the festival because without it, life was nothing but one long slog into a cold grave.

Shianni was always chipper - sometimes infuriatingly so. She would see to it that at least their block would have flowers. Bannon frowned slightly. If her spirit hadn't been broken completely. He'd remained silent too long, and on cue, Zevran eagerly jumped in.

"In Antiva, the highlight of the Summer Festival is the Grand Masquerade. Everyone wears a mask, and for one night, they are free of themselves. They can drink, they can dance, they can have a tryst with whomever they please!" He waved his hands in the air in mime, bouncing excitedly on the fence rail. Then he leered at Leliana and Bannon. "No sins, no remorse, no messy entanglements. 'Tis truly paradise, no? We should do that." He grinned.

"I don't think so, Zevran," Leliana said.

"Hm, well," the Antivan continued, hardly daunted. "I am a Summer Child, you know. I shall be another year older this Solstice."

"A Summer Child?" Leliana asked him. "What does that mean?"

"That is how we elves keep track of our age. Children born in the summer count their years at the Summer Festival."

Bannon said, "When the shems want to-"

Leliana interrupted him. "Bannon, that's very rude."

"What?"

"Do I go about saying 'when the knife-ears do this' and 'knife-ears do that'? No, I do not."

"Uh, sorry." Bannon ducked his head sheepishly. Right, don't call the shems 'shems.' "When the bann takes a census of the elves in the alienage, they want to know how old everyone is."

"Do you not have birthdays?"

Bannon shrugged. He recalled that there was a day in late winter when his mother would tell him the Maker had given her a gift - her baby boy. They would always do something special on that day: a trip to the market or the docks, a long story at bedtime.

After she'd been gone... He didn't even remember what day it had been. He shoved those memories aside. He didn't need to be getting maudlin right now.

He frowned to himself. Only shems were rich and privileged enough that they could have a special, personalized holiday. Vaughn was especially fond of holding big parties for his birthday. He hired a lot of elves. Bannon had tried to get hired one year, just to see inside the estate. After hearing some of the horror stories about Vaughn's humiliation of the elven servants, Bannon never tried again. The elves still went, though, each year. The pay was too good to resist.

Zevran answered the nun, with his usual cheerful carelessness. "No, we cannot be bothered having special days with children demanding presents and sweets on just any time of the year."

Leliana frowned. She seemed to change her mind about saying something, though.

Never one to let an opportunity go to waste, Zevran went on. "You know, in Antiva, it is traditional on one's birthday to bed as many people as you have years." He leered at the nun again.

To which she said, "I don't think that would be possible with our small company."

"No," Bannon quipped, "he really is five years old."

"Shut up!" Zevran tried to aim a smack at him, but couldn't reach with Leliana sitting between them. She batted his arm away.

"I can see why Antivans don't live very long." Bannon jumped up from the fence just as Zevran did so, preparing for a scuffle.

"Don't st-" Leliana started. "Oh, why do I bother?"

"They overexert themselves and keel over," Bannon continued with his teasing.

"And you Fereldans! You grow so old and cranky and very, _very_ unfulfilled."

"Zevran, you're horrible," Leliana chided.

He turned to her. "I most certainly am not! I am _very_ good. In fact, I think Bannon's exact word was 'incredible.'"

Bannon's face heated. "Zevran! Shut up!" That urge to punch the little weasel came back full force, and he turned away. "Look, Morrigan is back." He strode over to meet the witch.

Morrigan alighted and regained her human form in a swirl of ethereal sparks. She panted a bit, as if she'd been running.

"Is everything all right?" Bannon asked in worry.

She gestured to his pack. "Water."

Now even more worried, he dug out his waterskin. "Are they chasing you?" He peered past her down the road, but it was empty. How much trouble could one raven get into?

"No, 'tis fine," she said after taking a long drink. "'Tis quite tiring to go back and forth using but one's arms."

"I'm sorry, Morrigan; I should have been more thoughtful."

The others gathered around. "What did you see?"

"Nothing living, save a few birds."

"Any signs of darkspawn?"

"Signs, yes. They were clearly here. But I saw none now."

Curiosity prompted Leliana to press, "And the golem?"

Morrigan pursed her lips and took another drink of water while considering her answer. "I saw a stone figure in the square. Rather crude and ugly for a statue. It may be this fabled golem of yours."

This was going to be easy! No darkspawn to battle, no townspeople to stop them from taking the golem... "Let's check it out," Bannon said brightly.

"It could still be a waste of time," Morrigan said. She capped the waterskin and slung it over her shoulder. "I circled low over this statue and saw nothing indicating it could be alive."

"Well, you didn't have _this_." Bannon pulled the control rod from his belt and brandished it theatrically.

Morrigan quirked a brow. From behind him, Bannon heard snickering. He shot a glance back to find Leliana's cheeks reddening in a heroic effort not to laugh. Zevran was less successful.

Bannon slumped and put the rod away. "Come on."

===#===

The four of them traveled down a lane bordered by a stone wall. Or at least Bannon thought there was a stone wall, it was overgrown with honeysuckle, and the sweet scent filled the air.

At the bottom of the lane, they turned left. The town's modest gates were open. Hanging from the wooden cross post were two corpses. The stench of decay overpowered the honeysuckle. Bannon and Leliana covered their noses as they passed. Flies buzzed around the remains, and a handful of tenacious crows perched on the shoulders, pecking at any softened flesh they could find.

"Did the darkspawn do this?" Leliana asked as they skirted the grisly sight.

"We saw this in the Wilds," Bannon said. "But we couldn't tell if it was darkspawn or Chasind."

"The Chasind despise trespassers," Morrigan said, "but I've never seen them do this. Mother may know more."

"I don't think the Chasind came to town," Bannon mused. He looked around - _felt_ around - for any other signs of darkspawn.

Zevran said to Morrigan, "Did you not stop for a snack with your crow buddies? Perhaps they could have told you."

"Raven," she corrected with tired impatience. "You're the one with the 'Crow buddies.'"

"Hah!" Bannon shot a look at the assassin, but Zevran only laughed along with the barb. He was really an insufferable twerp. "Which way to the square?" Bannon asked Morrigan.

She led them up a meandering lane. The town was eerily silent; not even a cat or dog roamed the streets. There were dried smears and brownish stains here and there on the cobblestones. Hung upon one door like a holiday wreath was a crude totem made of rib bones.

At the top of the rise, the street opened into a broad oval with shops all around. In the center was a grassy sward protected by a low wooden railing. In the center stood a crude stone figure, its back arched, its head back, and arms raised outward, as if it were screaming at the sky. Half a dozen birds perched on it. It really was too ugly for a statue, but it had some crystals embedded in it - perhaps some raw gemstones?

Bannon stepped over the knee-high rail, Zevran behind him, while the women opted to move around to the opening. Bannon pulled out the rod and waved it around his head. "Shoo!"

The birds dispersed in a flurry of flapping wings.

"You make a deliciously handsome mage," Zevran said. "Though your staff is rather... short."

"Shut up." Bannon looked at the rod and then up at the golem. Unsure what, exactly, he was supposed to do with the rod, he just gripped it firmly and said, "_Dulak haigh_." When that didn't work, he pointed the rod at the golem and said it again, a bit more loudly.

Still nothing happened.

Zevran said, "Perhaps you need to perform an arcane gesture. Try waving it around while you hop on one leg."

"Shut up."

"Oh, I know! Perhaps you need to insert the rod into the golem." The Antivan gestured.

"Zevran!" came Leliana's shocked cry.

He turned to her. "I only meant like a key, my dear," he protested in false innocence. "Though wherever your mind went just then, we should revisit it in my tent later." He leered.

"Shut up," Bannon growled, tempted to clobber the damned fool with the rod. Though that would probably damage the rod. He speculated on jumping the assassin, but various parts of his mind and body had different ideas on how that ought to go. He shoved those thoughts aside. "Morrigan, do you have any ideas?"

"The same as I've had since we started. Is this the part where I get to say, 'I told you s-'"

Bannon threw down the rod and pulled out his swords. "Darkspawn!"

The others dropped the snide comments and drew their own weapons.

"Where?" Zevran started, but Bannon had already leapt the rail and ran to the door of one of the buildings. He kicked it in, catching a hurlock in the face with it. A dual stab to the weak parts in its armor sent it howling to the floor. Two more crowded the doorway.

"You're in the way," Morrigan called with calm detachment.

"I can hold them, just wait!" Bannon sensed more darkspawn inside the building... below? This was a perfect choke point to keep them from flanking him and rushing out to attack everyone at once.

The only flaw in his plan: he had to face the darkspawn swords head on. He could parry well enough, but scoring a hit was another matter. Zevran waited, poised on the balls of his feet at Bannon's right, but he could not close with the enemy. The choke point worked both ways.

Something hissed over Bannon's head, and a crossbow bolt bloomed in the hurlock's face. Good thing he was so short! He jumped forward and engaged the second hurlock.

"Get ready!" he yelled.

Zevran pressed against the wall by the door, crouched down out of sight and ready to leap in behind whatever came out. Bannon waited long enough for Leliana to reload, then leapt aside. The hurlock overextended and stumbled out of the doorway. Bannon's sword caught it across the back of the neck, dropping it in a heap.

Three genlocks boiled out, snarling and gnashing their teeth. A bolt caught the middle one in the skull, hurling it onto its back. That attracted the other two's attention, and the peppering of mage bolts held it as Bannon and Zevran moved in behind to fell them.

The middle genlock on the ground still squealed and thrashed around, despite its brain being perforated. Bannon stabbed it in the throat and signaled everyone that it was clear. For now.

"Are there more?" Morrigan asked as everyone regrouped at the doorway.

"Yeah. Somewhere inside, I think. We should get the hell out of-" A faint cry of _Help! Help us! We're down here!_ interrupted him. "Shit."

"Getting out of here is still a good plan," Morrigan said.

Bannon was tempted, but... Leliana brushed past them all to investigate. He shrugged and followed her. "Come on."

The place appeared to be a store. Several rows of raw crystal clumps sat on the counter and the shelves behind it. Perhaps it was a local product. Bannon acquired a few just in case.

Zevran checked the back room but found neither darkspawn nor victims. Leliana cocked an ear and moved to the fireplace. "Hello?" The cries were coming through the flue. "There must be another fireplace in the basement."

The group found the door to the stairs and descended. "There aren't that many," Bannon said, relieved that this pocket of darkspawn seemed as small as the first group. At the base of the stairs, they turned down a hall. Morrigan and Leliana hung back while Bannon and Zevran crept ahead to investigate the doorway.

Sounds of growling, a crash, and more screams covered the creak of the hinges as Bannon nudged the door open. Inside, a mixed group of half a dozen or so hurlocks and genlocks faced a glowing energy barrier. Beyond huddled a group of humans that held their salivating attention.

The big hurlock mage growled another incantation and hurled a fireball at point blank range. Still, the barrier held.

Bannon gestured for Leliana and Morrigan to hold back. The bard loosened her sword in its scabbard and readied the crossbow. One shot, then she'd jump into the fray. Bannon looked across at Zevran and tipped his head. The thief and assassin snuck into the room, hugging opposite walls. Whoever got in striking range of the mage would score the best points, but it was not to be. The other darkspawn crowded too close.

Bannon glanced across at Zevran, who'd also stopped as close as he could without alerting their targets. Their eyes met. Zevran grinned and leapt at the darkspawn. Bannon lunged forward with a roar to alert the others to come charging in. He swept his swords out in two arcs, catching a brace of genlocks in the neck.

He calculated which way the hurlock beyond would turn, went the opposite direction, and hamstrung the beast on his way to the mage. He didn't slow down; he kept his eyes on the prize.

A bolt in the shoulder spun the hurlock and interrupted its eerie chanting. It raised an axe just as Bannon leapt, but a blast of icy wind ripped over them, leaving the darkspawn frozen and the elf's armor frost-rimmed.

He crashed into the beast, throwing it to the floor in a tinkle of broken bits that flew off. It didn't completely shatter as he'd hoped, so he raised his swords and brought the hilts smacking down on the thing's skull. This was a lot easier with Wynne's stone fist or one swing of Sten's maul, but they could improvise. Bannon felt Zevran standing at his back, fending off the other darkspawn, so he concentrated on what he was doing.

It didn't take them long to mop up this small group. The buzzing-itching sensation in Bannon's brain died out as well. There weren't any more darkspawn nearby.

The group approached the barrier. The townspeople within looked haggard and worn, but they seemed to be surviving quite well. They clamored at the Warden's group, praising the Maker, thanking their saviors, asking question upon question about what was going on, where was their bann, have they seen this person or that in the town.

"All right, _hold it!_" Bannon yelled at them all. They quieted; them, a bunch of shems, shut up by an elf. He'd never get used to that. "We're Grey Wardens." He didn't bother making a distinction about his companions. "I'm sorry, but everyone else in town has either fled, or..." He glanced at Morrigan. She'd said the darkspawn ate people, dragged the corpses off. "Gone."

There was more wailing, more questions. Bannon overrode them. "The entire south has been evacuated. You must prepare to leave. Don't you have a leader?" From the confusion and milling about, he figured the answer was no. "Well, someone has to step up." He turned to the bard. "Leliana, help them organize."

She nodded. "Who knows where we can find supplies? Who knows where there is some transport?" She moved among the people, keeping her voice calm and quiet, quelling their panic.

While she worked on that, he continued on with business. "We came here seeking a golem to aid the Wardens against the Blight. Does anyone have any information on it?"

"Warden...!" A man approached him. From the look of worry on his face, Bannon knew this was going to be bad. "Please, you must help me. My daughter - she's run off further into the basement, past the other wards."

Bannon didn't know what part of the Grey Warden legends made him a finder of lost children. "Why can't you go find her?"

"I tried." He held out a bandaged arm. "I was attacked by fearsome wraiths. That was my father's laboratory; he warded it with the barriers to keep the guardians in."

Morrigan, ever helpful, said, "If you cannot get past them, your child is most likely dead."

"No, please!" His eyes went watery. "She-she could have hidden or - I don't know! Something! I can't stand the thought of her being trapped down there, huddled in a dark cupboard, afraid and crying... It will drive me mad if I don't try to do something. Please, at least find her, one way... or another. Then I'll tell you about the golem."

"You know about the golem?" Bannon asked.

"How convenient," Zevran commented.

"Look, my father was Wilhelm the mage, a hero of the revolution. That golem was his; he was constantly ordering it around with that control rod."

"You know how the control rod works?" Bannon asked, interest piqued anew.

"There's some magic word," the man said. "It might be in the notes in my father's lab."

This guy was canny, Bannon thought. He didn't like being pressured into any deal, but how hard would it be to mop up some wraiths? "All right, I left the rod outside by the golem. Meet us there."

"I won't go near it," the man insisted. "I always feel it... watching me." He shuddered.

"Well, I don't supposed anyone will bother it," Bannon conceded. "We'll go find your daughter and be back. What's her name?"

"Missy."

"All right." Bannon turned to see if Leliana was finished directing the others. They had at last started heading out of the basement. "Come on." He turned towards the first barrier.

"Well I'm not going," Morrigan sniffed.

"Why not?" Bannon looked back, letting the bard and assassin test the barrier. "There's demons. Your favorite!"

She gave him an evil look.

So much for her sense of humor. "Fine, wait here. But you can't go back to the others until you're sure we're dead, and we could linger for weeks. And you'll be stuck here, alone, bored, and unable to say 'I told you-'"

"Oh, all right!"

Morrigan stalked forward, probably just to get him to shut up. Well, it worked for Bannon.

===_X_===


End file.
